The Night Side of Eden
by penguinfighter-d-chan
Summary: The story continues as a Roman vampyre commits a series of symbolic murders throughtout England with someone else pulling the strings, involving a certain cryptologist while Robert Langdon figures what he now is...the next installment after One Wish
1. Renewing interactions

_A/N: The next installment after One Wish for the Damned ..._

_Apparently, people will only review when it's Robert/Sophie and there's Silas in it, well guess what? I just sold this off to you guys...As if._

_Enjoy this new story as i screw up Da Vinci Code once again >3_

_Disclaimer- Robert Langdon and Vittoria Vetra are not mine they're Dan Brown's, Raphael is mine though.

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I

It was a warm evening all throughout the southern Harvard campus, one whose day's end was a marvelous sight to see. Unfortunately, professor Robert Langdon could enjoy such a sight as he readied himself for the 6:30 pm class about the properties of the pentagram. Of course, by now, he would have taught the same class to 3 other groups and quite frankly, he was reconsidering the evening shift. But it was an improvement from the boisterous day classes. As he reorganized the papers for the fifth time, the professor's attentions began to focus on something else. With the eerie clarity of the halls, Langdon grinned a bit as he heard a male student make a pass at a female. Apparently the poor imbecile didn't know he was hitting on the daughter of one of Harvard's most charitable CEOs

_And cue the mandatory dumping…_he thought as he reclined on his podium and tried to think about the next class but immediately ceased when he heard something go awry.

"Stop it! My daddy's gonna hear this!" the auburn haired lady squealed as her victimizer held her tight. With a probably fake Transylvanian accent, the male ordered her, "You will stay and be my bride!" Robert sighed rather annoyed and with half a heart, he decided to save the poor girl from a bad pick-up line. Or, by what he saw in the young man, a rather stupid death. "Excuse me but if you are going to something nasty, why don't you try the cafeteria?" Langdon suggested humorously, interrupting the botched courting. The attacker grumbled under his breath as his victim struggled a bit more. 

"Professor! Please help me get rid of this loser! He's trying to rape me!" the young woman exclaimed, slightly blushing at the sight of the professor.

"Don't overestimate the guy Virginia, I'm sure if I talk to him; he'll probably stop antagonizing you." Robert calmly replied, amused at the directness of the girl's accusation. But it only made the other student hold on tighter and growl under his breath.

_Great, now I have to overpower him…_Robert thought, even more exasperated. He then looked straight into the young man's eyes, piercing the man's mind in half.

"Now, you'll let miss Virginia go." He ordered softly, allowing space for the stricken provoker to follow. As the heiress ran off into the nearest classroom, the attacker came to and instantly struck a ready pose while everyone else in the hall huddled around the two.

"You let my bride go!" he accused with his stereotypical Eastern European accent. Completely fed up, Langdon replied, "Drop the act, you're from Minnesota and your parents are white-collar execs downtown."

The familiar sound of "ooh" and the snickering only fueled to the assailant's teenage rage and unintelligently launched a right-hook against the professor. Langdon stopped with a single hand with the other in his pocket and lightly threw the young man to the ground. As the attacker remained on the floor, Langdon ordered everyone else to go into his or her classrooms and resume classes.

"How did you do that! No one's ever defeated me!" the assailant yelled but was right away shut up by Langdon.

"How long were you made?" Robert asked inattentively, looking out to the windows to see the last ray of sunlight die.

"50 years ago." The young man lied straight out.

"Give or take a couple of months. Still wet behind the ears, right Matthew?" Langdon went on, scratching his head dubiously. _Raphael wasn't kidding when he told me they were recruiting from all ages._

"And how would you know? You're just a human! I could rip you to shreds!" Matthew exclaimed rather proudly.

"First rookie mistake, you don't take on someone who is clearly stronger than you." The professor interrupted matter-of-factly as he rolled up his left sleeve. What Matthew saw on Langdon's forearm was a distinct mark, a scar that had the undead on edge all throughout the Northeast.

"That's the…" the newborn could barely convert his thoughts into words for his mouth but was shushed by the mark's owner.

"I'd prefer if you didn't mention it." Robert quietly requested as he unrolled the sleeve. "I'd also prefer you look somewhere else for your dinner and for God's sake come up with something more original. The fact that you're a vampire is no reason to plagiarize Beluga lines."

As Matthew ran off, Langdon shook his head while he headed into class. He was nearing forty-three years of age and the specter of middle age had eluded him. His swimmer's body was the result of daily morning laps in the campus pool; his black hair peppered with gray and sharp blue eyes resonated with his youthful soul. But to a keen eye, something within him had changed, something ancient; he was not human. Not anymore. In the last seven months, he had accepted the blood that ran through his veins was that of an Original, an immortal species that had run its course but found a recipient in said blood vessels.

_Not a human, not an angel, not a demon…just existence…_ was the Originals' classification in the world and it suited Langdon just fine. Now, if only there was a way to stop the backlash that resulted in accepting just that. Vampires and other preternatural creatures had caused turmoil over the "untimely" death of the resident master, Nicholle D' Pietre otherwise known as Nicholaus; a death that Robert had played a fundamental part.

Robert went on with his lecture as if nothing had happened, his class either mystified by the unknown properties of a relatively worn out symbol or catching up with their sleep. When he finally dismissed the class, an uncommonly warm breeze swept the room. The professor grinned and without looking he greeted,

"Took you long enough to get here, eh, Raphael?"

The being motioned as it materialized into a solid being that sat on one of the student desks. Its blonde hair was tied in a braid while its vivacious eyes landed onto its target.

"Well, it wouldn't have taken so long if you didn't get transferred so often." A cheery voice retorted, drawing a chuckle from Langdon. "The administration has decided to remodel my usual classroom, so blame this one on the suits."

Raphael was an archangel originally sent to destroy Nicholaus and find out what her grand scheme was but sidetracked into protecting Langdon and later the physicist Vittoria Vetra. To make things even more interesting, Raphael uncovered the plot surrounding the man and his role in the resurrection of Elizabeth Báthory. Ever since then, the archangel maintained a close connection to the mortal realm, not just for his friendship with Langdon, but also for the ongoing investigation about his brother Barachiel's disappearance.

"So how are things here? I know Malik means well but even a baby seraph can see that you humans are not as good as they say in the seminars." Raphael inquired as he put his feet on the desktop, which were rapidly pushed back to the floor by Robert.

"Well I had to ward off three zombies, one ghoul sent by a student to kill another, quite hilarious actually, and five bloodsuckers one of which you saw run home like a baby tonight…a very light week if you ask me." The professor responded as he filed away some graded papers and other academic affairs alongside a silver-plated cross.

"Told you it was good to brush up on things like that." Raphael stated, noticing the many manuscripts in the closet in the farthest corner of the classroom.

"You told me to go off and play vampire hunter. And I refused because…" Langdon interrupted, putting away the last of the paperwork into his briefcase and signaling Raphael to get out without as much as a glance.

"You're still afraid of what you are, yeah, yeah. I think I memorized the next five minutes so save your breath." Raphael concluded for the man as he stepped out. Robert gave the archangel a fleeting glare, flipping the light switch off and locking up. _Hey I have the right to be scared…I RIPPED A MAN'S HEART OUT AND ALMOST ATE IT!_

As they walked down the same hallways that Robert had his little skirmish, he asked. "Any news on your brother yet?"

"No not really. But I heard his last position was around Paris." Raphael sighed. _Paris, huh? How long has it been? A year?_

"One year and 8 months." Langdon thought out loud.

"Thinking about Sophie?" the archangel mused with a bored look on his face. _Humans are incredibly predictable…they have a mate and then they want another._

"Yeah but I haven't heard from her for a while. Maybe she moved on." Robert replied although he still remembered the time they spent with each other. He shook off the thoughts and remembered who waited for him at home. And by the looks of it, was there to stay.

"C'mon, I want to get home before Vittoria leaves for the convention in Vancouver." Robert hurried to his car and dumped the briefcase onto the back seats, giving Raphael the passenger seat. "It's just one day right?" the archangel asked, hopeful as he hopped in. "Yes but I'm supposed to take her to the airport. Knowing her, she's probably ready."

Surely enough, there was a woman waiting for the sedan on the front porch of Robert's Victorian home. Her ebony hair was tied with a purposely-loose ponytail, accentuating her European facets, both facial and body. Her pink silk blouse, weatherworn jeans and white-heeled sandals pulled off a lovely look that the arriving professor loved so much.

"You're late." She said with a smile as she got into the car, forcing Raphael to scoot to the back. After a while, they arrived at the airport and a couple of security measures later, Robert dragged in the baggage and kissed Vittoria good-bye.

"Call if you need anything." The professor urged for the umpteenth to the woman. "Don't worry Robert, I'll be fine." Vittoria assured as she walked into the terminal to await her plane. Just as she disappeared, Robert felt a sudden emptiness and dismissed it as lover's departure. But just in case he requested to Raphael, "Could you please send someone to watch over her?"

Raphael smiled softly and assured Robert that she would be fine, that she'd have Sefirot the Dominion watch over her. When asked about the strange arrangement, Raphael responded, "Let's just say that Sefirot still owes Vittoria for the Smithsonian tip."

As the plane took flight, Robert and Raphael waited reclining themselves on the car and watched it take off the ground. Langdon sighed and said to the starry Massachusetts sky,

"Here's to hoping that all I have to do in this life is my profession, love Vittoria and scare off pervert vampires off the campus."

"Here's to hoping that I get see my brother again." Raphael added independently as he looked up the firmament.

Wishing can only get so far as something sinister was already developing across the pond, in Scotland Yard prison and Rossyln Chapel. Had Robert stayed a little longer in Harvard he would have heard of a series of murders that had taken place inside the British illustrious police agency.

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A/N: So how was the first chapter? Reviews are greatly appreciated 


	2. Murder in London and Suicide rates

_A/N: Ok, it took a while to muster up this but i hope it gets the plot a bit clearer or not._

_The Duenos inscription is actually a primitive record of Roman writing_

_Disclaimers, Robert Langdon, Vittoria Vetra, Aringarosa, Bezu Fache and Sophie Neveu are Dan Brown's so no suing, I'm just screwing up while you dream of killer hamsters_ :3

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_II_

The British morning rose with the horrible news on every T.V. screen; head of police Rodger Moreland, dead in his office by a brutal attack that focused over the neck and collar areas. The veteran officer of 59 years was found in his office with his clothes ripped apart from his upper torso. As the newscasts eagerly surrounded the scene of the crime, a hooded man ran off to the dank alleys. His chiseled face was covered in scarlet, his eyes the characteristic red of a bloodsucker. The Duenos inscription had been bleeding on his right palm, a symbol of property among his peers, causing him to pale considerably. As the shadows of the previous night began dying down, the murderer hid inside an abandoned warehouse near the iconic building. His purpose was to call the attention of Interpol, leaving the ancient script etched on the chest of the expired man.

_Romulus will be so proud of me when he hears the news…_ the pawn thought as he caught a rat and savagely drained it. He had been made just 37 years prior by a high-ranking vampire but the Consulate had never paid attention to him or his master. But with the help of an unknown source, he had decided to prove himself and accepted the job. All he was meant to do was draw the attention of a specific division and that division had to be France's DPIJ…After all, they already had a man on the inside.

The subordinate then hid under the guise of a homeless man and waited. His master would be encouraged to expose the Consulate to the mortal world, but in a society where magic has been sliced and maimed into only hallucinations and chemicals, it would ring out to deaf ears. Unless of course, there was controversy and to their fortune, man has a macabre obsession with death. To open the carcass and play with the deceased is one of man's most primal instincts. To beat death is the ultimate goal of science.

_400 years of developments and if every thing goes well, they will become dust to the winds_

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In the farplanes far beyond mortal reach, everything was bustling about. Not to the surprise of the Powers and the Dominions, suicide rates had grown exponentially all across the world. Sefirot was already filing the accidental poisonings and other lethal mishaps when a new file popped out of nowhere. The Dominion sighed, exasperated, this one had to be the tenth file that arrived via medical records. He hated to admit it but he did miss the field but not enough to stop his deskwork, even if it was in Heaven. Sefirot opened the manila folder and read the preliminary report already written by the human medics. Simple gunshot wound to the head, .34-caliber revolver, alone in the act. But after closer examination, the victim had seemed to twitch when the coroner had not looked. He discarded it as rigor mortis.

_Ironic, a suicide within another…_ Sefirot mused before he went on with the report. His eyebrows rose when he read who had been the unfortunate soul,

_Opus Dei priest Manuel Aringarosa…_

Subsequent to a search on his name surfaced with the Sangreal scandal, he being a charming pawn to the Teacher's preparation to destroy said relic, the Dominion kept on to see what had become of the fallen man. Aringarosa had plunged from the Opus Dei, humiliated, his only follower dead and double-crossed by his obscure partner, so it was natural that he would commit the ultimate act of resignation. The file went on about over trivial matters but nothing out of the ordinary. Sefirot knew better than to meddle in whatever had taken place in the whole affair, knowing it ruffled feathers in his workplace.

_Open case, solve it and keep your mouth quiet. Even if certain bodies just happened to be lost in the flight to France…guess I'll have to wait for that nitwit Raphael to update me._

With an easy chair beckoned, the Dominion decided to summon a window to the mortal realm, an easy task for him at his level of experience. His fair complexion paled as a forgotten symbol flashed across his eyes. He couldn't help but drop the Aringarosa file as four circles lined with an ancient writing were etched unto a body in England. And he correctly guessed who just happened to be in the investigation team; a man with the essence of a bull rambled on to the presss while a young red-haired woman, both in uniform, were presented as Sergeant Bezu Fache and cryptologist Sophie Neveu.

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A/N: Second chapter! XD Reviews are greatly appreaciated! 


	3. Selective Memory

_A/N: Sorry I took so long to update but every little project piled up and I got sidetracked XD_

_Enjoy! _

_III_

The long ride home was hard enough with Robert falling asleep but even more with Raphael's snoring. The professor could hardly believe that an angel could snore with the strength of a freight train. As he parked the vehicle in his driveway, Langdon shook Raphael slightly, therefore stopping the noises.

"Shouldn't you head back home?" the professor asked as the archangel stretched and shook off the sleep.

"I should, Sefirot might put up a fit if I don't." Raphael smirked, opening his wings and flapping them for a moment to stretch them for a bit. The evening breeze almost picked up the angel but was easily dismissed as Raphael landed daintily on the grass. Just as he was about to leave, Robert took his wrist and held him down for a moment more.

"You never told me what your brother looked like."

The question landed heavily unto Raphael, the mention of his Barachiel, his mentor and older sibling. He smiled wearingly as he replied;

"Have you looked in a mirror?" And with that, took flight towards the nightly firmament.

_That angel has got to learn more mortal customs…and not to speak in damn riddles!_ Robert thought, his mind trying to decipher the supposed insult. He shrugged it off and entered his Victorian home. Without Vittoria, it now seemed empty and quiet.

_Not even ten minutes have passed and I already miss her. _Robert thought as he poured himself a glass of scotch from his kitchen. He swallowed the whole drink with one gulp and went on to his study room; alcohol had no effect on his body.

Around the room were the relics of forgotten eras; the remnants of histories past and of course a couple of weapons, things that contrasted with the manuscripts, scrolls and books on the mahogany desk centerpiece. Most artifacts came from either travels or donations that the Ivy League Campus has provided, items that Langdon understood and regarded. The only new addition to the collection was a silver cross, lined with intricate designs and psalms etched beautifully on it.

"Too bad the only use I have for this is to ward off unwanted creatures that go bump in the night. " The professor admitted to himself.

"It doesn't work if you don't believe in it." A voice responded in the darkness. Suddenly Langdon sensed a presence, an intruder in the study. He quietly shifted, his hand searching for any weapon that he carried. _Damn, I've got nothing on me. _

Langdon searched about calmly, closing his eyes. With unnatural accuracy, he dropped to the floor and spun a roundhouse kick to the intruder's weak ankles. The creature took off and landed on top of some leather-bound parchments.

"Damn, I guess I'm at the right house…the legends weren't kidding when they said that vampires have extrasensory hearing." The intruder groaned as he shook off the pain.

"I'm not a vampire; now what do you want? You're trespassing." Langdon replied, his eyes growing steely and his muscles tense with adrenaline. A quick study and he determined the intruder was indeed a lycanthrope and a rather strong one at that. It stood seven feet on its hind legs, the dark thick fur covering every square inch of its body. The slightly drooping jaw and canine snout were covered in slobber while the once human claws were laced with whatever unfortunate dog or cat that had come between the creature and the house's entrance.

"I'm just here to deliver the news about what's happening in Europe. You vamps got something big planned. Thought you were satisfied with the whole Báthory deal." The creature rambled on, completely ignoring Langdon, its feral amber eyes making contact with Langdon's. "You don't look very undead to me."

Langdon sighed and decided to dismiss the lycanthrope's mistake. "What's going on in Europe? And make it quick; I'm not the least bit remorseful to pump you full of silver and lead."

The creature shrugged and countered, "Romulus has decided to show his chiseled face up from the underground. He's already killed someone from Scotland Yard and he's starting up a new organization. Really messing up what the Council stands for. Kinda like that Langdon fella."

Langdon rolled his eyes, everything that the werewolf just said made no sense. "I have no idea about what you just said so leave."

"Don't have to get snappy. The only good thing about all this is that two humans are doing us lycanthropes a favor and investigating who killed that police officer." The intruder continued with his rant. "Especially that Neveu lady."

The surname struck a nerve in Robert and almost immediately grabbed the werewolf by the throat. With preternatural strength, he pinned the animal to the wall and dug his fingers deeper into the windpipe, causing the werewolf to choke on his own spit.

"You mean Sophie Neveu! Tell me!" Robert yelled, his eyes tinting red and skin growing increasingly pale with his rage.

The lycanthrope coughed a bit until Langdon strengthened his already lethal grip. "She's one of the humans that are investigating the Scotland Yard murder!"

With the same force that held the victim, the professor coldly tossed it aside. His glowing red eyes shone murderously at the lycanthrope as he asked;

"And you say the murder was done by a vampire?"

"That's what the rumors say. And thanks to you, I'm gonna have to go back to my pack with my tail dragging between my legs 'cause some weak-ass vamp like you beat me!" the lycanthrope snapped back as he regained his feral composure and left the building. As soon as the creature left, Robert collapsed onto the floor, his breathing quickly reduced to a heavy pant. His entire body was coursing with pain and agony as he returned to his more mortal side. He let out a feral scream while his skin became once again rosy and his eyes their normal blue.

A couple of minutes later, Robert had dragged himself to a nearby bed, his disheveled expression buried in a pillow and already in a deep sleep that not even a truck couldn't wake up. But the dream that followed was at best disturbing…

_He was tied to a chair in a building he recognized as the House of Lords all the way in England. His skin would perpetually bleed from the rope burns, as the knots grew tighter. He couldn't help but look around just to see masks floating about and conducting conversations with each other. _

_One mask stood above all the others and took the judge's positions. He called out for Robert's name and responded._

_Robert tried to approach the situation but he was immediately confronted with barrages of accusations of all sorts._

_He couldn't speak in his defense; his mouth had been sewn tight_

_I didn't do anything, I HAVEN'T COMMITED MURDER!_

_A/N: How was it? Reviews are greatly appreciated!_


	4. Different memories, Same Emotion

_A/N: Updating again! Hopefully I can get the next chapter up. _

_Time for the girls to play!! XD This chapter is based on what i interpret as the events in Da Vinci Code_ _so no flaming, ok?_

_I actually made some art to go with this so here's the link and enjoy!!_

_Robert, Vittoria, Sophie, Faché belong to Dan Brown (finish the 3rd book st00pid ;3 ), Raphael and Sefirot belong to me _

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_IV_

In Vancouver, Vittoria already was halfway explaining the behavior of subatomic particles under extreme conditions. It had been quite a while since she had done this as much of her time was consummated in theories and questionable results. Like herself, some of her colleagues were still haunted by the death of Leonardo Vetra, her dear father.

_All because of his studies…_

_Pathetic, isn't it? One man's discovery for humanity is another's deepest fear._ A deep voice invaded the physicist's mind, an all to familiar voice. Vittoria looked around at her middle-aged audience, spotting the source of the intrusion. With a white coat, a somber attire of a black turtleneck with equally dour pants, and a pair of glasses to blend in, sat the young-looking Sefirot on the third row to the back. His smirking expression was further accentuated with his white hair tied back in a ponytail. Vittoria grimaced, what could possibly be wrong back home that required HIS presence?

After the conference and every attendee had filed out, Vittoria lightly hopped off the stage and walked over towards the dominion.

"What are you doing here?"

"Pleasant to see you again Miss Vetra. I am here to be your bodyguard." Sefirot responded, removing his prop glasses. Seeing the incredulous reaction on the woman's face, he continued with, "Robert sent me. HE was the one who saw it fit that I watched over you."

"I can imagine your face falling off already and I didn't even have to be there." Vittoria retorted.

"You should show respect to an angel…" Sefirot started but was immediately interrupted by Vittoria.

"I'll give you proper respect when you give me mine."

Sefirot brushed the remark and continued,

"Langdon has been attacked by enough preternatural enemies in the last seven or so months that he took measures so you don't share the same fate or worse. And apparently, he's wise to do so."

As the dominion explained, Vittoria sighed mentally while serving herself some refreshment. _Robert, I know you're worried but I'm a grown woman. I can handle myself._

"Thank you, Sefirot. Now answer me this…do you watch over me from wherever you come from?" Vittoria inquired, taking a sip of her drink.

"Yes. Why?" the dominion responded, his expression unreadable like always.

"Is…my father…watching too?" she sustained in almost a whisper.

"…Of course. He has become very proud of you. I still do not understand how but he keeps watch over you. Like he is bound to you, even though he was not your biological…" Sefirot stopped right then as he heard sobbing. Vittoria had broken into tears, her carefully constructed make-up running over her face. He had seen sadness but never up close and…it was tearing him apart.

"Thank you, I just needed reassurance."

Sefirot tried to comfort her but he knew better, to become attached to a human, even the target, was forbidden. Raphael had clearly broken that unwritten law to both Vittoria and Robert and he wasn't about to fall from grace.

Vittoria then stopped her sobbing and quickly brushed off the tears. She began to reassemble her make-up as she requested, "Tell me what's going on in Europe."

"You know of the Scotland Yard murder?" the dominion replied, mentally relieved that there was no need to console.

"How could I not? Everyone here is talking about it. I also heard that Sophie Neveu is in the investigation team." She added, a slight bitterness in her voice. Somehow, she knew that when her name was mentioned, Robert would hop on the next flight to England…and leave her again.

"What are you planning, Vetra?" Sefirot grew mystified.

"I need all the information you've got on the case, down to the last drink the superior drank before finding the body." The physicist ordered, her olive eyes gleaming with deductive thoughts racing in her mind.

"We already know that there is vampire involvement; the extent is unknown. Are you planning on solving this murder without the required years of criminal investigation? And who will believe you?" Sefirot shot back, his sarcasm poignant.

"Not me…I'll be helping Neveu. If what you say is true, then that little princess's going to walk into the proverbial belly of the beast." Vittoria concluded, her minimal grin causing her eyes to shine with enthusiasm. _My little grain of sand, I guess._

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Back in Scotland Yard, Sophie Neveu arrived with the last rays of sun dying over the horizon. This was her second trip to England, back to the incident one year and eleven months ago. She lost everything to her name and gained it back in less than twenty-four hours in the British Isle. Her dear grandmother Marie told her to retire at the ripe age of thirty-seven, but she decided the DPIJ was a better way to commemorate her grandfather's death.

_I can never bring you back grand-peré but I can sure as hell try._

But had not her grandfather been killed, she wouldn't have found her last relatives…and Langdon. Communication had been cut off for business reasons, and at first both tried to reestablish them once more. Three months later, it was severed indefinitely. Sophie catalogued as lack of interest and dismissed Robert altogether.

_I have better things to do than wait for an American…_

"But a damn fine Yankee at that." She thought out loud as the bulletproof car heeled to a stop. Her supervisor, Bezu Fache was too busy reviewing the case to give her comment substance. She grimaced; this was an open-shut case, end of story.

"There's nothing to look in that file. Someone just got too hopped up on marijuana and decided to have some gory fun." Sophie remarked.

"And you obviously didn't catch the inscription etched with a scalpel." Bezu shrugged, showing the Polaroid to the cryptologist.

She instantly recognized it as the Duenos Inscription, a forgotten symbol that used rudimentary Latin, something that set it apart from other inscriptions of the times.

"Are we dealing with an Italian killer?" The imposing officer suggested while readying his gun.

"Not necessarily. It could be Romanian, Spaniard, or French, anyone with a romance language. And he's most definitely a person who is well-taught, that inscription is known mostly by language majors, professors, and people who spend too much time on Wikipedia." Sophie explained, her gaze shifting from the picture to Faché in a fraction of the time.

"Great…just great." Fache chided, bringing a smile to Sophie's face. _Still resentful, eh Faché?_

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_A/N: Fourh chapter!! Reviews are greatly appreaciated! 


	5. Consulate

_A/N: Sorry I took so long! Work just piled up before I could submit the new chapter but better late than never_

_Robert, Sophie, Silas and Vittoria are Dan Brown's, Sefirot and Raphael are mine ok?

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V

Langdon woke up with a start; his face covered in cold sweat. Some stains on his bed sheets followed his blood-soaked hands, the same wounds around his wrists from the dream. He watched as the skin renewed itself with no trace left except his own scar of that forgotten bite.

An unfair judgment against him with him at a loss of words, Sophie involved in a vampire case that wasn't very promising…and a name that was supposed to be myth. Langdon looked up to the ceiling and closed his eyes again, looking for anything in the mirage. _Ok, you want to tell me something…_

The illusion flashed through his eyes once more, returning to his accusation. The rough rope was felt once more around his forearms as he stared straight into the empty eye sockets of the preceding judge. Suddenly he felt a jerk to his neck, throttling him to the near wall. Langdon coughed a bit, suffocating by the seams etched onto his unconscious mouth, his gaze shifting from eloquently curious to deathly afraid. He watched, as the mask became a grotesque creature, one of the claws piercing his stomach and lifting him into the air. The stitching came loose just in time for Robert as he screamed in horror. But what shocked him most was the voice that came out of the monstrosity's jaws just before he was devoured head first,

_You do not deserve to live even in perpetuity, you traitorous bastard of hell!_

The warmth of the morning and Raphael's touch woke the professor from the meditative nightmare, the angel surprised at the lesions all over Robert's body.

"Wow you look like you went through hell and back."

"Don't joke about that. I saw and heard something that I probably shouldn't had." Langdon paled, searching for any laceration on his abdomen.

"Like what? A demon or something?" Raphael inquired as the man washed his face in the master bathroom. Robert stared into the mirror, met Raphael's eyes and replied,

"It looked like one but it sounded like…Silas."

"That guy that died trying to kill Sophie?" The archangel responded, the answer bringing up some more recent news. In order to bury the dead man in Opus Dei HQ all the way in New York, there were two flights involved, one of which lost the cargo for unknown reasons. Raphael shared the information, his mind racing to conclusions.

"Making him into a ghoul would explain the disappearance but then what about the body?"

Robert also thought about the chimera, and the grudge against him. Except for the fact that people don't pop back to life. And that answer had to come from somewhere. Both trains of thought were interrupted when a knock resounded from the front door. Langdon quickly grabbed a robe and sped to the entrance. There to greet him was a postal officer, grin flashing with the morning sun. Having still some side effects from the other night's attack, Robert hissed under his breath and quickly signed the release forms.

In his hands was a cotton paper envelope, sealed shut with a rubber stamp. The symbol took shape as a crest of two sides, with a complex rose in the middle. Around said décor was the phrase _Mort Est Triviali_

" 'Death is a trivial thing?' What the…" Robert translated, confounded by the eerie motto, and removed the stamp. It was a letter, written in formal Italian and its medium a rare blue Indian ink. The letter read as followed;

_To Whom It May Concern:_

_It is of utmost importance that whosoever reads this be Robert Langdon. We are most concerned with your actions over the last seven months. You have crossed the line by involving yourself in matters that you, a mortal, do not concern with. If you have heard the news of the murder, remain a spectator and keep out of this. If this is about revenge or self-ratification for which you desire most, then desist. If you disobey our established norms once again, we will be forced to take drastic and unnecessary action._

_Signed Vilaneska Roinev_

_Partisan of Foreign Affairs_

_Consulate di Vampyrs_

Langdon struggled to make sense of what the letter said, with its title the most intriguing. Raphael suddenly ripped it from the professor and swiftly reread it. The look on the archangel told Robert that this was more than just hot air.

"Would you mind explaining?" Langdon asked, breaking the momentary and awkward silence.

Raphael crumpled the letter in his grip. "They're referring to Nicholaus. They believe that you interfered as an out-of-bounds mortal."

"And what does a European organization want with her? She's ashes in the ocean now." Langdon refuted, growing more intrigued.

"Nicholaus was born and reborn in France as Nicholle D'Pietre. The Consulate protects any vampire in or out Europe, no matter their actions. It's like killing an American citizen on foreign soil; there would be repercussions. You got lucky you got a warning." Raphael elaborated.

"Just peachy. I just want to get to England fast." Langdon responded while changing into a new shirt and a pair of pants.

"Didn't you just read?! You go there and they'll kill you for sure!" Raphael exclaimed, amazing and terrified at Langdon's persistence.

"I can't die, remember?" the man assured as he grabbed a jacket and readied some light luggage.

"Well of course you can if you get beheaded!" the angel yelled, stopping Robert in his tracks momentarily but went on.

"What about Vittoria? Doesn't she get a chance? Why risk it all when you got a full life ahead here?"

Robert sighed and turned to meet Raphael's worried expression. "I can't let the last real princess die, now can I?"

Raphael grumbled something under his breath and with a running start, took off towards the far plane.

_Please understand, I want to set the record straight…I can't have her believe that I abandoned her._

Into the infinite skies, Raphael tried to reason with himself, how could a human even consider leaving one partner to one that probably would not acknowledge him was beyond him. He greeted Sefirot with a slightly unhinged tone in his voice as he entered the office.

"All right, what happened?"

As the archangel explained what had happened recently, Sefirot grew annoyed at the same thing as Raphael.

"We must dismiss it as a primal need. Now, what's this about the Consulate of Vampyrs?"

* * *

The John F. Kennedy airport is one of the most visited and used airports in the eastern coast of the United States. With its vast halls, multiethnic flavor, it brings around 750,000 patrons, even with the infamy of being the take-off point of all three airplanes that were to strike the World Trade Center on September 11th, 2001. Robert waited patiently as he passed through the checkpoints, fully aware of his surroundings as both a passenger and as an Original. The first time he had gone through it as an immortal, everything seemed so new and revitalized. Each individual step, every syllable rang crisp in his ears and all sensations fresh. He had gotten used to the sensations and used it as a way to relax.

The voucher read an airport in England, and went off without a hitch. Updates flashed through the television screens, none of which relating to the British murder.

_Humans have incredibly short attention spans, I just never noticed._

Robert thought as he read the newspaper, waiting for his flight to be called. If Raphael had not flown off in a fit, they would have already arrived in England.

_Partially my fault…_

The intercom voice boomed against the boisterous sounds of the crowds ready to fly and those who bid goodbye. Langdon acknowledged the fact that no one would bid him away and crossed the terminal with a slight grin. As long as Vittoria was safe in Vancouver, he could help Sophie and come back with no trouble. There was only one mistake in Robert's theory: Vittoria had beaten him and was patiently waiting for Sefirot at a small teashop in Essex.

* * *

A/N: So how was it? Reviews are greatly appreciated! 


	6. Essex

_A/N: wow...It's been a long-ass time to update this fic._

_The reason: other extended fanfiction have crowded up my time, though the main plot still remains the same. Lately, I've been doing CSI:Miami, meaning more research about body decomp, how weapons behave and believable terminology. I hope I can continue this one with the knowledge that I gained from writing **Between Desires and Insects** and **Spin, Spin Sugar**._

* * *

"You know, I could get faster service if you got off your ass…" Vittoria smiled as she took a sip from her soda.

Sefirot had trouble swallowing Vetra's comment as he drank his tea. "Sorry I'm not up to standards." He was not at all pleased at her rebellious character, especially considering HE was protecting HER from anything that would harm her. "So what are the specifics in the Scotland Yard case?"

Out of the blue, a folder plopped onto the table while Sefirot continued his drink. "The man was nearly drained of his blood. Neck has been severed along with the rest of the muscle tissue. The coroner has found multiple bite indentions around the wounds." He elaborated as he tossed a picture.

"And you said it was a vamp? Looks too messy." Vittoria replied. "Could it be a wolf man?" "Keen observation, Miss Vetra." Sefirot smirked sarcastically. "Be nice." The physicist shot back, eyes never leaving the photo. "It's too organized, too calculated to be lycanthropic. Note that the attacker emphasized on the throat." "Canine species prefer to attack the throat, I'm just saying."

Sefirot rubbed his fingers on the bridge of his nose. "Why are we discussing the attacker's race? We are going nowhere with it other than how we can trap him or her."

"Raphy once told us that most underworld creatures split up into factions according to their species, right?" A nod as her response and Vittoria continued. "By big-small single elimination using the attacker's type, we can narrow Neveu's investigation to specific groups and individuals of interest."

Sefirot was impressed by the train of logic and, with a movement of his hand, another folder dropped onto the tea table. "This is the crime scene analysis according to Scotland Yard. What exactly should we be looking for?"

"Anything that demonstrate third-party affiliations; anything that ordered the killer to commit the murder."

* * *

Robert's flight had been delayed for reasons of weather but he kept his composure. He knew calling Raphael to help would be useless; the angel would still be pissed about him leaving Vittoria to help Sophie. Nonetheless, he tried to establish a link to his seraphic friend. He took out a pocket mirror and, with a bit of his blood courtesy of a thumb bite, lined the surface with red. _Give me Raphael…_

A familiar flash of slightly pissed-off amber eyes replaced Langdon's blue; the connection was a success. "What do you want?"

"I need a ride to Scotland Yard." Those childish eyes flared up, causing a fit of laughter in the professor. "I AM NOT A TAXI!!! AND NO WAY AM I HELPING YOU COMMIT ADULTERY!" the archangel fumed.

"If you look at the practical point of view, we've already established that your brother isn't any of the Ivy League states. You could use this to search for your brother in another country." Robert negotiated, knowing well Raphael's reaction. "

If I do anything you wouldn't approve, just turn the other cheek and state that I did it free of your influence and that you forewarned me."

A moment of silence and Robert got his response. "Give me five minutes; gotta get Gabriel's permission."

"Good luck with that." Langdon said before severing the link by wiping the mirror clean. In his theological studies and according to countless interpretations of the Bible, Gabriel came up as one of God's favorites as he was a cautious messenger. In Raphael's situation, that description wasn't that far off the mark; Gabriel was in charge of Earthly Affairs; making sure every angel who came down to world came back.

* * *

His golden locks flowed unto his white robes, contrasting Raphael's street clothes. "What is your purpose to enter Earth?" he said rather disdainfully at the lesser angel's appearance. "To accompany Robert Langdon and expand my search to England."

Gabriel sighed with a sad smile. Seven terrestrial months prior, everyone in the Earthly Affairs stood on edge as Raphael brashly fought off Nicholaus and her troupe. Even Raphy's name commanded more serenity than he did; Raph-el, the angel of healing. "Do you promise not to get into any more violent situations?"

"I can't promise something I can't keep." Raphael's eyes shone with rebellion and determination. "I can promise that I will come back alive and hopefully with new information about Barachiel."

* * *

"The killer's a bloodsucker and that is final." Sefirot stated forcefully.

"And I finally agree with you." Vittoria replied with a grin. The dominion was stunned at the rare fact that he and the human ultimately saw eye to eye on something. "You were right; the attack is too smart for a ravaging animal like a werewolf."

Sefirot let out a breath but noticed that Vittoria's smile had yet to leave. "And you have another reason, right?"

The physicist then tossed the angel the previous day's newspaper, placed on the weather section. "Read the weather forecast for London."

A quick skim through rain forecast and wind conditions later; Sefirot understood what she was smiling about. "No moon for the murder date."

"Then let's search for any major vampire factions in the London area and see if we can interview any of them before saying anything to the princess, ok?" Vittoria continued before being interrupted by Sefirot's raised palm.

"This is exactly what Robert feared; you think you can confront these killers with nothing but the clothes on your back." The dominion scolded, not at all dissuading the woman. "That's called stupidity back where I come from."

"And that's why he sent you; because he knows I won't sit back when he's involved." Vittoria's smile softened. "If Robert wants his princess protected, who am I to stop him?"

* * *

A/N: Reviews are welcome


	7. Crossing the Pond

A/N: Another chapter for those who've watched this story grow...

After watching _Silent Hill,_ vampire-hunters films and re-reading _Da Vinci Code_, got my lazy ass into updating this...

Sophie, Bezu Fache, Robert, Vittoria, Priory of Sion subplot (c) Dan Brown; Raphael, Sefirot, story plot (c) me.

Enjoy!

* * *

VII

Underneath the Essex city streets, as Sefirot pointed out, was a subterranean system of dungeon cells. Once used for medieval political torture, they were now home to the local nightlife population. Vittoria, being a natural skeptic, almost dismissed the idea until she heard the sounds of snores and hollow coffins. "Hmm."

"What?" the dominion had to ask. "Just disappointed." The physicist replied nonchalantly as she grabbed a door hinge and knocked three times. A disheveled Jude Law look-a-like showed up, rather cranky. "What the hell do you want? Don't you know what hour is it?" "For me, lunch time. May we come in?" Vittoria asked charmingly. "And don't try anything stupid." Sefirot hissed.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of a delivered lunch and death sentence?" The vampire spat as Vittoria looked around the cell. "He's a pussy if you don't make him mad. We're here on the Scotland Yard murder and since you're the closest vampire on the map, we'd like to ask some questions." The physicist took great joy from calling Sefirot names. _Don't push it;_ the Dominion's glare spoke wordlessly.

"Blame the night-crawlers, huh?" the bloodsucker chided. "What are the biggest local factions?" Sefirot inquired, rather annoyed. "Well, you've got the Hellraisers, big favorite among the young'uns; the Gentleman's Blood Run, very exclusive with members required to be more than 300 years old; Her Infamous Majesty's run, females only, all ages; and the English branch of the Consulate." The vampire responded, counting down with his fingers.

"And any have a history of violence? As in the murder case?" Vetra added, writing down the names before noticing the strange stare the vampire had on her. "Don't even think about it; I'm someone else's property." "That would explain why my bespelling has been failing so miserably." He chuckled. "But to answer your question, only the Hellraisers and Her Infamous Majesty's has had any recent violent outbreaks, neophytes and the lot."

"And what's your name?" "Mark Theodore Wales, Gentleman's Blood Run, at your service." "Lovely." Vittoria bid farewell before heading out with Sefirot on tow. Once outside, the woman smiled. "See? We can get the information without threats. Now we have something to give Robert."

Sefirot merely shrugged away as he followed Vittoria to the nearest library. "One thing though…" she stopped, took out her cell phone and dialed her lover's number.

* * *

Raphael arrived at the airport, a bottle of NesQuik chocolate milk waiting for him. "Peace offering." Langdon said with a smile. The archangel gave him a steely stare before opening the cap and taking a gulp. Raphael looked down at Langdon's carry-on bag and suitcase. "That's it? That's all your carrying?"

"Yep; anything I need, I'll buy it there." The professor replied. Placing a hand on Robert's shoulder, Raphael muttered a couple of words in Latin. "Wait, no wings?" "Nope, too far. _Aero Mundi, Inglaterra_." A flash of light and the two found themselves on the roof shingles of the Big Ben Clock Tower. "Holy mother of God… " Langdon exclaimed, simply amazed by the incredible view. From that point, they could see most of London's cityscape, classic meeting the modern.

"You have to teach me that…" "No way, you'd be catching up with ALL of your girlfriends all the time." Raphael scolded. Robert chuckled; the angel had a point. Suddenly, his phone rang unceremoniously, breaking the moment. The caller ID was an all too familiar name. "Vittoria?" "How was the trip to England?" the caller giggled. _It's official, she knows me._ Robert sighed mentally. "Very quick if you must ask. How's Vancouver?"

Vittoria felt slight pity for Robert; he thought she was still in Canada. _Best not ruin the surprise…_ "Chilly but the seminars make up for it." "And Sefirot?" "Peachy." The booming voice was heard through the phone's speaker. "Robert, I'll be in Quebec next Tuesday…I'll be delayed for another week, all right?" Langdon mentally cheered, he'd have enough time to help Sophie. "You just do your best there, ok?"

Out of nowhere and before she hung up, Vittoria said those four dangerous words. "I love you, Robert." This stunned the professor and made his heart almost a ton heavier as the connection was terminated. "What happened?" Raphael asked, looking at the professor's pained expression. "Nothing…let's just find Sophie."

* * *

Neveu was now at the coroner's office, taking pictures and notes of the mangled corpse. It had been a couple of days since her last visit to her grandmother's home but it brought her relief.

"Body shows no signs of struggle, toxicology reports states a 0.09 alcohol level in what is left of the blood collected. Brutality focused on the arterial blood vessels and surrounding muscle tissue; wounds take shape as bites…" She then switched sights towards the Duenos inscription. "Fache, did you write the symbols down?" "Yes…" Bezu replied, glued to the autopsy report.

"Exsanguination as cause of death…what was it again, your initial theory?" the man smirked, rubbing the mistake into Sophie's face. "I know when I'm wrong." She smiled. _Women…_

"One thing's for sure, whoever did this knew what he or she was doing. The bites are concentrated…hold on." Sophie suddenly noticed a small piece of paper lodged between the tangled mess of torn veins. "Bezu, come here. Did this show up on the autopsy report?" The hard-broiled French cop skimmed through the findings and shook his head. "No mention of paper stuck in the trachea." Carefully, Neveu took out the scrap and stared at it incredulously…_Princesse Sophie…

* * *

_

A/N: Reviews are welcome!


	8. Telephone Lines

_A/N: Trying to update as many fics as I can before this new semester kills my writing streak. Sorry I take so long with my updates; I tend to write sporadically between classes and projects so anyone reading this, I apologize._

_Robert, Sophie, Vittoria, Bezu, plot for Da Vinci Code (c) Dan Brown_

_The angels, the plot (c) me_

* * *

It wasn't the first time Robert Langdon had been in England, most recently for the Priory of Sion ordeal. But this time, he wasn't going to any museum or medieval structure…yet. In his suit jacket was the Consulate letter he had received earlier, his first issue to solve in British soil. Raphael accompanied the professor, .40-caliber gun neatly tucked within an overcoat. "Do you always carry a gun?" Langdon managed to ask before purchasing two train tickets headed to Scotland Yard.

"Well, _you_ can't, remember? Unless you got a firearms license when I wasn't looking." The archangel replied with a smile on his juvenile face. Robert then took out a piece of paper from his wallet. "As a matter of fact, I did." The ghoul incident back at Harvard spooked the professor into applying for one. "Regardless, I have you to ward off any undead."

Raphael grumbled in disagreement as they sat inside the cabin. The noon city landscape blurred against the speeding while the two reviewed their objectives. "First, we get Sophie to safety, clear my name with the Consulate, and track down the Scotland Yard killer." Langdon listed while they landed on a dank alleyway.

"Problem there, genius; the Consulate has problems letting go of grudges, especially one like yours." Raphael retorted. "And they like to hide their whereabouts to non-members." The smirk on the Harvard professor was evident. "No, I'm not tracking them down." "You won't have to." Showing the letter to the angel, Robert pointed out. "This paper has a certain watermark that reads," he explained while using a small light. "Glastonbury Paper prints. High end, by the way."

* * *

On the other side of the phone line back at Essex, Vittoria gave Sefirot her cell phone. "Could you please find Sophie's police cell phone number?" The Dominion didn't take the request lightly. "I'm a phonebook now?" Nevertheless he took the device and closed his eyes. The phone screen lit up with thousands of ciphers and numbers. One by one, the correct combination of area code and line number fell into place."Perfect." Vittoria said as she pressed the Talk button.

* * *

"Agent Sophie Neveu, who is this?" Sophie's voice answered the call. "Good. Are you attending to the Scotland Yard case?" Neveu was perplexed, how could a stranger get her number? For security measures, she had two cell phones: her personal phone and one provided by the force, both confidential to all but her coworkers. "That is on a need-to-know business; who is this?" "Well you need to know that you and _signor_ Faché are in grave trouble; the corpse has a bioterrorist agent that is set to go off 12 hours after the host has perished."

Over at the morgue, Sophie's eyes widened and signaled to Bezu to step away from the body. "Who are you?" Vittoria hung up before the call could be traced and turned to face the Dominion. "I need another phone-related favor." "Let me guess, you want to make your phone number anonymous so Ms. Neveu cannot track it through other means." "That'll be great." As he did just that, Sefirot asked, "Why did you call it a 'bio-terrorist agent'?" "If you were Sophie, would you keep a straight face if I said 'the body's going to rise up and try to eat you'?" Vittoria answered with a cynical expression on her face. "Good enough."

"This has to be a joke." Bezu growled as Sophie repeated what the mysterious caller said. "Call the people at Toxic Agents, this body's been dead for 10 hours and I'm not risking this agent spreading any farther." The red-haired woman stated while dialing. _This case just keeps getting better and better…_

* * *

The press was within the English mountainside, where many forgotten castle ruins litter the land. Glastonbury Paper Press was located only five miles from a medieval ruins site; the factory itself in disarray and abandon. "Did you say 'high end'? 'Cause this factory looks like it's been decades since it made paper." Raphael observed. "I did; Glastonbury Paper Press went bankrupt in 1949, right after World War II. When I meant 'high-end' I meant 'nearly extinct'; only 15 people in the world still have paper with this watermark, the Queen of England included." Langdon explained as he walked into the area. "So why not track those people down?" Raphael was even more confused. "Because that would be a waste of time and valuable resources."

Over at the abandoned press, two shadows scurried across the decayed windows, both trying to catch a glimpse of their visitors. They were obviously not Consulate members, specifically the blond one. He radiated too much light to be one of them. The older creature hissed as the guests carried themselves over to the press.

Robert knocked on the heavy door three times before it fell inside, causing a loud BOOM. "Nice." Raphael smirked; he was clearly enjoying himself. "Quiet, you."

A/N: reviews are welcome


	9. Vilaneska Roinev

A/N: Another update! Saw _Angels & Demons_ and thoroughly enjoyed far more than the_ Da Vinci Code_. Most of the mythos in these series is found here. Reviews are welcome! Robert, Sophie, Vittoria (c) Dan Brown; Sefirot & Raphael (c) me

* * *

_IX_

The building was eerily quiet for a minute as Robert and the archangel stepped into its premises. "Anyone here?" Raphael called out, hoping for a response. "Like I said, abandoned," Langdon said as he went up the rickety stairs. The main paper press had what Raphael estimated to be an inch of dust and metal decay but he could see the Glastonbury seal. The angel then picked up the vibrations of movement a couple of feet of darkness and quickly cocked his gun.

The gesture wasn't lost to Langdon's extraordinary hearing and he too withdrew his weapon. "What is it?" the professor called out. "We're not alone." Raphy responded, his voice dead serious. All of a sudden, a shadow dropped just inches from the archangel and lounged at him with animalistic ferocity. Raphael yelled in pain but he was able to recover and shoot the attacker. The creature didn't last longer due to the angel's blood and rapidly dissolved into dust.

"Where are we going now?" Sefirot asked as Vittoria hailed a cab. "We're going to the library, of course." The physicist replied, using her phone's GPS function to locate the Royal Archives. "This is no time for a light reading, Dr. Vetra." The Dominion glowered

"We still have at least five more hours of daylight left so looking for the other vampire factions is fruitless at this point. We could use the time we have to research the victim and why he was branded with the Duenos Inscription." Vittoria explained as she searched for the location of the monumental library. Sefirot caught the hint and in an instant, disappeared back to Heaven but not before agreeing to meet up thirty minutes later.

By the time the physicist noticed the Dominion was gone, she had already started brushing up on what the markings meant. The Duenos Inscription was not something commonly seen. Due to the Old Latin it was written, there wasn't a concise translation of the three unbroken stanzas except for the one made by German historians Warmington and Eichner that read:

_It is sworn with the gods, whence I'm issued:_

_If a maiden does not smile at you,_

_nor is strongly attracted to you,_

_then soothe her with this fragrance!_

_Someone good has filled me for someone good and well-mannered,_

_and not shall I be obtained by someone bad,_

The manner in which the inscription was stenciled on the Scotland Yard Police murder victim mirrored that of the three-pot jar or _kernos_. But the problem with the find was how out of place it was: Vittoria couldn't make the connection between the good-willing message and the horrific crime. _Maybe he had an affair with someone…only way to confirm that is with Sefirot's records. _The physicist caught the next bus to the Royal Library and hoped Robert was having better luck in whatever he was up to.

In that exact moment miles away in the countryside, another assailant dropped from the dilapidated roof and hacked its way to the professor's position. Robert managed to fire two rounds before he fell on his ass, his gun darting out of his hand. The aggressor was unrelenting its attack, sword swinging wildly and nearing on its mark. _I have no choice but…_the professor reasoned as his eyes began tingeing red. But just this happened, the attacker halted. "Who are you?" the female voice, riddled with both animosity and a thick Russian accent, asked from the shadows.

Robert's eyes returned to their usual blue once he was sure he was free of harm for the moment. "I should ask you the same thing!" "Robert! Are you ok?" Raphael exclaimed as he flew up to the second floor. The mysterious woman hissed, her suspicions were right; the blonde was an angel.

"Raphael, I presume?" she spat. Raphael perked up at the mention of his name. "That I am; who asks?" "Vilaneska Roinev, Consulate Di Vampyrs." The woman finally revealed herself as a statuesque female of frigid green eyes and icy blonde hair. "You're quite far from your home aren't you?"

Vilaneska's focus then shifted towards to Langdon and studying his features. "How did you find our headquarters?" "I know thing or two about watermarks." Robert retorted, holding up the letter, causing the archangel to slap his forehead. "Oh great." He groaned as the vampire recognized the document. "We told you to stay away from our jurisdiction, Mr. Langdon. Now we'll have to resort to lethal measures," she stated acridly, her sword grazing over the professor's face. But she had to eat her words as the wound healed just as quickly as it opened. "But those wouldn't do much good, now would it?"

Robert shook his head slightly in response, "I need to clear my name with the Consulate." "You stand accused of murdering Nicholle D'Pietre, a citizen of France." Roinev argued before Langdon interrupted her with, "who attacked me first! Besides, a vampire just killed the head of police over at Scotland Yard! Shouldn't you do something about that?" The case struck a nerve with Vilaneska, evidenced by an involuntary twitch. "The Consulate is not responsible for its members' actions."

"Now you're just being a hypocrite!" Raphael retorted, fed up with the roundabout aspect of the conversation. "This has nothing to do with you, angel." "Yes it does, he's with me." Robert disputed, arousing a scoff from Roinev. "An angel helping a human? Now I've seen everything." The cold woman said before turning around. Desperate to get his name cleared, Robert grabbed the vampire's hand and held with his preternatural strength. "I didn't kill Nicholaus out of spite." Vilaneska's rage simmered; how dare this man touch her?! "We know of the whole Báthory ordeal; why do you risk getting killed?"

"Because I suspect what happened to the head of police is related to the last 'true princess'." Langdon concluded as he released his grip. Roinev knew exactly who he meant: Sophie Neveu. It didn't take the Underground too long to find out of about the Sang Real incident but it was quickly dismissed for more pressing matters. With a cold shoulder, Vilaneska threw away her sword and went down the stairs, motioning both the professor and the archangel to follow suit.

"Contrary to what you may believe, the Consulate has no intention to bring any sort of harm to Ms. Neveu; whatever mysticism surrounds her is irrelevant to us." She explained while opening a secret subterranean passageway. "So you say." Raphael spat back. "I have been sent from my organization investigate the Moreland murder. I say we should work together." The Russian vampire suggested. "Why should we?" the angel wearily asked, unsure of Vilaneska's goals. "Because then, you'd have access to 90% of Europe's Preternatural community. In addition to finding the culprit, I will personally pardon Mr. Langdon for your crime." Vilaneska responded matter-of-factly. "You got yourself a deal." Robert said before Raphael could intervene. "Good, wait here."

"Are you insane?! How could you agree to anything to the person that just tried to kill you?" the angel exclaimed rather exasperated with his friend's seemingly lackadaisical attitude to the whole thing. "Diplomatic immunity for the time being; for now, we play by her rules." The professor retaliated as he watched their guide's movements. "This is going to end badly."


End file.
